


Abomination, Hallucination

by megslittlehellhound



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, M/M, Sam Winchester my poor self-hating baby, Slight Canon Divergence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-29
Updated: 2015-03-29
Packaged: 2018-03-20 07:46:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,068
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3642318
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/megslittlehellhound/pseuds/megslittlehellhound
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam sees Castiel when going through detox. What he sees makes him fear the angel, and hate himself.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Abomination

**Author's Note:**

> Do you ever cry because Sam thinks he's an abomination? Do you ever cry because Sam thinks the angels think that too?  
> Same

Sweaty, scared, and going through _major_ withdrawal symptoms, Sam opened his eyes for the umpteenth time in the uncomfortable, cold, impersonal panic room in Bobby’s basement. He was so sick and tired of the in and out of it, the repetition. He just wanted to be better. Always has.

For some unbeknownst reason, Castiel walked in just after Sam’s second round of puking had finished, and Sam cracked a joke in his head about angelic timing. He didn’t want to open his mouth, though, scared he’d be sick again. 

But, after a moment of awkward silence and Castiel staring at him, he decided to say something. “Uh, hey,” He suffered a small coughing fit. When he recovered, he spoke again. “Hey, Castiel.”

Castiel just squinted at him. He looked dangerous, _angry._ Sam didn’t focus on that. Sam also didn’t focus on how his stance and posture made him want to squirm into the shadows and hide from him forever out of fear.

Sam cleared his throat, which he instantly regretted, but held down the dry-heave with admirable resistance. “So, Castiel, why’re you in here? If you’re checking on me, pretty sure I’m the same as three days ago.”

Castiel took a step forward. “You’ve made _no progress._ I believe this is irreversible. But I suppose that’s alright.”

Sam stares at him in shock. “What!? How is this _alright?”_

Castiel frowns, his head tilting ever so slightly; he looks at Sam as if he was thinking ‘stupid, pathetic little human.’ Sam tries his hardest to ignore it, but can’t when Castiel says, “Because you were always an abomination, Samuel. The demon blood has been coursing through your veins since you were an infant. You have always been, and always will be, an abomination. You aren’t savable, you’re just as bad as the demons in Hell, and deep down, _you know it._ Everyone else does too. You are a vile creature. I have only decided to let you live out of pity.” He stepped closer, his eyes glowing blue. “But I suggest you leave this place before I change my mind.”  
Sam would’ve run, he really would’ve. He didn’t want to live after what he’d been told, but his self-preservation mode kicked in, so he tried to.  
That’s when he realized he couldn’t move;it was like he was glued to the spot he was in.  
That’s when Castiel’s hand came a centimeter away from his forehead.  
And _that’s_ when Sam woke up—well, sort of. It was like waking up, but he had already been awake, his mind running wild as the demon blood left his system-- crying, sweating, and stomach rolling. He sat up in his cot in the small panic room. He looked around, no Castiel in sight, and his breathing started to back to normal—for his state, anyway

~~~~

Sam couldn’t stand to look at Castiel after that, let alone be in the same room as him, as many times as he had to be, he tried so hard not to. He would look into those bright blue eyes and see hallucinated hatred. He would press and press at the wound on his hand, just like with Lucifer, and Castiel wouldn’t go away. That meant Castiel was real. That meant he wasn’t going away. That meant he really was letting Sam live out of pity. That meant Sam really was the abomination he thought he was ever since he was a child.

As much as he hated it, he had to come to terms with not being able to be clean. Not ever fully human. An angel told him he couldn’t change, so what was the sense in trying?


	2. Hallucination

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Castiel doesn't understand why Sam keeps avoiding him.

Castiel wanted to know what was wrong with Sam. Ever since Sam had gotten rid of the demon blood—even a little before that, during his withdrawal period. Sam would refuse to look him in the eyes, or look at him _at all_.

Cas starting watching Sam as he slept, but the more he watched, the more he couldn’t stand the pain on his face. Castiel always left the room before he could hear _his_ name. Before he could hear Sam crying in his sleep and asking him to forgive him for being an abomination, always saying he was so, so, sorry about the demon blood. He was so desperate to figure out what was wrong with Sam, but always left just before he could.  
He didn’t stop going though, trying to see if maybe, just _maybe,_ behind that sleeping face, he could figure out what was wrong, figure out why Sam had suddenly hated him so much. He couldn’t figure it out. He refused to even _think_ about entering Sam’s mind, the man had been violated and poked through enough by angels, Castiel was not about to make that worse. 

One night, he felt like he was out of straws to grasp at, that he couldn’t figure this out on his own. He folded his hands, and hid his face in them, as he had done many times before, and prayed quietly. He spoke aloud, instead of just thinking, but kept his tone down out of fear of waking Sam.

“Father, _please, I need you to help me_. I don’t know what I’ve done, but please, Father, I know you can hear me. _I need to know what’s wrong with Sam.”_

No response. No heavenly epiphany. No saving grace. 

Sam started to stir, so with a ruffle of wings, Castiel was gone. He was kept from being met with a crying Sam, heartbroken and shaking.  
~~~  
Castiel came back the next night, and Sam was—surprisingly, because he had been sleeping so routinely-- awake. His back was turned to the doorway to his room as Castiel entered. That didn’t stop him from hearing the footsteps. If Sam hadn’t, Castiel was sure he would’ve just left Sam alone, especially if he knew he’d cause that look of pure _fear_ that appeared on Sam’s face. He noticed Sam grabbing one hand with the other, his thumb pressing into a palm.

They stared at each other for a long moment, but Sam avoided eye contact. “Sam,” Castiel said, but when Sam ducked his head, looking away, he couldn’t continue speaking. He just turned away, leaving Sam to be alone, like he assumed Sam wanted to be.

Maybe there was nothing wrong with Sam, maybe there was something wrong with him.

**Author's Note:**

> I realize in this chapter that Cas is hella OOC, but he's supposed to be, trust me.


End file.
